Dad shakes his head. “You two are so weird.” I look at him, brow raised. “We’re weird? Have you met yourself?” Dad rolls his eyes. “Luther knows his stuff,” he says in a high feminine voice, then he switches to a deep tone. “That’s Kendra’s chair.” I laugh. “You sound ridiculous.” “You sound ridiculous.” I shake my head. “And what chair is mine?” He takes another sip of his coffee, gesturing with his free hand. “At the fish fry, before you bailed.” “Bailed,” I repeat dryly. Dad never really believed I wasn’t feeling well. Pretty sure he thought it was a lie because I was bored. Which is still
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